


Honest Work

by Piinutbutter



Category: 16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Established Relationship, Multi, Post-Canon, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-08 01:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: The trio of vampire hunters attempt to infiltrate a relatively harmless cult. Unfortunately, Lucy's past chooses a poor time to catch up with her.





	Honest Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



“Sweetie? I love you, but honestly, how many succubi have you met who wear sweatpants?”

I paused mid-crouch, reaching for the heels I’d left under the motel bed. I glanced down and realized that I’d never actually changed into my Seductive Monster Hunting Clothes after Maggie had done my makeup. 

“I’m, uh, breaking stereotypes.” I stood back up and stifled a yawn on my way to the closet. “Comfy succubus chic is the new trend.”

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Luke asked, cleaning up the mess induced by our flavorless hot-plate breakfast.

“I think I conked out somewhere between 4 and 5 AM. That’s about it.” The lumpy bed wasn’t comfortable for one guest. Three guests illegally crammed into a one-person motel room strained its crappy comfort capabilities beyond their limits.

“Sorry, babe.” Maggie helped me zip into a red cocktail dress that shouted my cleavage to the world. 

“Next time we take down a rich vamp, let’s see about investing in an air mattress,” Luke suggested.

“Or at least a sleeping bag.” I rolled my shoulders and checked myself in the bathroom mirror, then waved Luke inside. “We’ve gotta get you made over too.”

We had limited budget for accessories that didn’t go towards making me look like an appetizing meal to bloodsuckers within a 2 mile radius. Still, we’d raided the local Family Dollar for some flimsy faux-leather collars and cheap oxidized earrings that made Luke and Maggie look a little more like the kind of bored, horny goth kids who would willingly become the thralls of a sex demon. Basically, the demographic of the amateur cult we were infiltrating tonight. The High Order of Melancholy Midnight would have been relatively harmless on their own, except that they had somehow managed to get their hands on the wedding ring of a vampire we’d staked last year. 

Here’s the thing: Relics of dead vampires? Dangerous stuff. Let them touch the wrong substances, or the wrong magic, or just stare at them too hard, and you can start wreaking all sorts of supernatural havoc. We weren’t going to let a bunch of occult-obsessed college students get in over their heads fucking around with serious magic. It would cause more trouble for us in the long run, anyway. 

So we’d tipped the cultists off to the presence of a local succubus (that is, me) stalking around campus and demanding tribute. The head of the cult sent me a fawning Twitter DM, inviting me and any of my pet human +1s to a ritual gathering so they could worship me properly. It was cute, in its own awkward way.

Once I’d layered my partners (+in crime) with copious quantities of eyeliner and we stashed in-case-of-emergency weapons into Luke’s baggy pants, we hit the road. Er, the sidewalk. The campus was only a 20 minute walk from the motel, and we were running low on gas money. 

I started to have that tingly feeling on the back of my neck that meant someone was watching me as we crossed the street. I looked around, but I didn’t see any obvious vampires. The hard thing about my job was distinguishing ‘people who are looking at me because they want a snack’ from ‘people who are looking at me because _duh_ , I’m a cute, young woman deliberately flaunting my assets.’

No one confronted us, and I didn’t hear any echoing whispers of innocent souls, so we marched unperturbed into the abandoned former art building on the far end of campus where the High Order held its weekly meetings. 

The girl who greeted us at the door fanned herself with the neck of her purple velvet cape as she led us inside. It was the middle of summer, and I guess the campus bigshots didn’t want to spring for air conditioning in the empty, paint-splattered classrooms.

It was surprisingly easy (and fun) to get into my role as we met up with the cult’s leader. For once, I didn’t have to play helpless damsel. I kept my chest out and my chin held high, radiating confidence and sex with a cute person hanging off each arm. It was sweet. 

But more importantly, we were here on a mission. The High Order’s Highest Priest was a lanky senior boy with sharp teeth. He took off his leather jacket halfway through giving us his welcome speech, giving me a clear view of his _Dead Boys Make Better Lovers_ t-shirt. If he hadn’t felt both totally human and utterly nonthreatening I would have found a subtle way to slide some garlic bread in his direction. 

I wasn’t the only one having a little too much fun getting into character. Maggie clung to my side as I asked if my demands for the night had been met. 

“Of course,” the boy assured me. “And I’ve made sure no one will bother your thralls.”

“Good,” Maggie purred, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Mistress Lucinda is so good to us.” 

Luke disguised a snort-laugh as a violent cough. 

The transaction would be simple. We’d give the cult members a 15-minute Q&A session so they could have all their burning questions about the sordid world of fuck-demons answered, then I would perform a “spell” to bestow them with good fortune and mindblowing skills in bed. (I had no idea how well that placebo would work, but by the time they got to test it out, we’d be off the radar again.) In return, they’d give us the vampire’s ring. And 80 bucks.

...Don’t look at me like that. Vampire hunting gas doesn’t pay for itself. Besides, I considered it payment. Who else was going to perform the humanitarian service of saving these poor humans from future vampire-related grief? Yeah, I thought so. Our skills are highly specialized and under compensated.

The Q&A was smooth sailing. We started out giving straightforward answers about succubi and their male counterparts; sharing some supernatural street smarts couldn’t hurt. As the questions got more personal, we got creative. Luke managed to spin an elaborate tragic origin story for himself involving car crashes, drugs, star-crossed teenage love, and evil stepmothers, not necessarily in that order. Some members nodded sagely and took notes on their phones, though I politely refused to take a group selfie or feature in any snapchat stories.

Then it was spellcasting time. They had the ring of candles and demonic symbols on the floor all ready for us. It was completely unnecessary, but the leader had sounded so enthusiastic about getting to put his demonic arts and crafts skills to use. I didn’t see the need to ruin his fun. Luke and Maggie stepped back into the shadows and bowed their heads while I knelt in the center of the circle and chanted half-remembered Latin. It was a good thing none of the cultists were classics majors, because my grammar would have given them a heart attack.

I was about halfway through the spell (i.e. running out of Latin words I'd learned in high school) when a few muffled words of protest came from outside the classroom. A quick, heated argument broke out soon after. Everyone’s heads turned to the closed door. I trailed off mid-conjugation.

“Lydia?” One of the girls started to stand up, concerned for her be-caped friend who was watching the door. Leader Guy stood up and held a hand out towards his followers. 

“I’ll take care of this. Continue the casting, Miss Lucinda.”

Yeah, no. It didn’t sound like Lydia out there was having a good time. If there was actual trouble going down, it was our duty not to let civilians handle it. I glanced back at Maggie and Luke, who must have had the same thought, because they were giving each other a silent nod. 

Cult Dude approached the door and was promptly whacked on the tip of the nose as the thing flew open. Standing in the doorway was a tall, slim girl with a button nose and the cutest head of short curls and mild burn scars all along one side of her face.

Wait.

I knew that adorable face.

I started to ask what she was doing here, but the (ex?) McDonald’s cashier had a more pressing question. 

“What the _fuck?_ ”

It was about now that I noticed she had a stake clutched in her hand, and I could smell garlic wafting from her direction. I also saw the glint of a knife in her waistband. 

“Uhh. Hi,” I said. Smooth. I know. “You came at a bad time.”

“I...I thought...” the cashier sputtered, waving her stake hand in a gesture that was somehow both angry and helpless. “You’re one of them! But you killed...”

Before I could think of a way to diffuse this situation, I saw Maggie moving out of the corner of my eye. Machete in hand.

Oh, shit. Right. Luke and Maggie had no idea who this girl was.

“She’s cool!” I called out, standing awkwardly through the wobbling of my heels. Maggie wouldn’t hurt a human unless absolutely necessary, but I wouldn’t put it above her weapon hand to get twitchy if she thought this newcomer was seriously threatening me. “I know her. Kind of.”

The cashier pursed her lips, her eyebrows drawn close together. “You don’t know me, and you owe me an explanation. A good one.”

Luke came to stand beside me. His hand was down his pants, which would have been alarming had a gun not been stored there. “Do we want to escort her out?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “No, no, it’s fine.” I addressed the cashier, who was staring at Maggie with open aggression. “Listen. I do have a lot of explaining to do. Wait in the hallway and I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just give us five minutes to wrap things up here.”

“So you can...summon a demon or whatever you’re trying to pull?” The cashier jabbed the pointy end of her stake at the magic circle. “No thanks.”

“If any demons get summoned in the next five minutes, you have my permission to stab me.”

One of the cultists gasped. “Don’t endanger yourself like that, Miss Lucinda,” he entreated. “Your kind are near extinct in our toxic modern world.”

The girl sitting next to him jabbed him with her elbow. “She can take care of herself. She hasn’t survived two hundred years without knowing what she’s doing.”

I shot her a smile. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, love. Now, if I may continue the enchantment?”

I rushed my way through the last thirty seconds of bullshit Latin. The atmosphere in the room had changed irreparably, everyone varying mixes of confused and nervous about my relation to the well-armed girl hanging by the door. But I told them all they were blessed with my dark gifts, everyone clapped politely, and I got the ring we came here for. And the cash. The cash felt good just to hold.

I shoved the ring into my bra for safekeeping as I approached the cashier. “Let’s not talk in front of them,” I said, gesturing back at the cultists who were milling around partaking in post-meeting snacks.

“Sure. But I want answers.” Together, we started walking down the hall, Luke and Maggie trailing uncertainly behind.

“I’ll give them,” I promised. “Starting now.” I held out my hand and gave her a winning smile. “Hi! The name’s Lucy.”

She looked at my chipped nail polish with suspicion for a second, then returned the handshake. “Claire.”

The four of us wound up walking around the city as we talked. We did our best to answer every question Claire had about the world of vampires and vermin like them. Luckily I convinced her I wasn’t actually a demon by taking a bite out of the garlic clove in her purse. Which told me how much of an amateur she was; demons didn’t care about garlic. Vampires were the picky ones in that regard.

Still, I did start to feel like a jerk as Claire explained why she’d felt the need to hunt me down in the first place. Having your worldview turned inside out as dramatically as she had couldn’t be fun. When she let it slip that she’d been traveling alone and sleeping in her car, the three of us made a unanimous decision to offer her a hot meal and some company at the very least. 

(Horribly, my first thought was McDonald’s. Luckily, our pay for the night allowed us to pick up some Qdoba to split.)

The tension between Claire and us melted away as we chatted over burritos. I could understand. It was good to be assured that you aren’t crazy, that vampires and shit are all real, and there are people who will help you fight against them. If I hadn’t had Luke and Maggie, I could never have dealt with knowing what I did.

When midnight rolled around and Claire realized that she was a 40 minute walk away from her car, Maggie offered her our room to crash in. Claire looked at the narrow bed, then at the complete lack of other sleep-friendly surfaces in the cramped room. But she didn’t turn the offer down.

“Let’s block out a Wal-Mart trip tomorrow,” I said. “Air mattress is now top priority.”

Luke and I wound up taking the floor while Claire and Maggie had bed privileges. We didn’t want to scare Claire off by squishing her on her first night. The motel didn’t have AC, so I slept close to the wide-open window, trying to wish a breeze into existence.

At bullshit o’ clock in the morning, someone woke me up with a shake to my shoulder. Grumbling, I rolled over and blinked through the dim haze of sleep and streetlamp lighting to see Claire staring down at me. She'd gone to bed in her clothes, having not packed a bag in anticipation of sleeping in a strange threesome’s rented room.

“Hey,” she whispered. “I can’t sleep. I was looking around and found a safe in the closet. We should put the ring in there, shouldn’t we? It’d be safer.”

“Hmm?” I muttered, yawning. “Yeah. I guess.”

Claire gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry for waking you up. Here, I’ll put the thing away for you. Where is it?”

I fumbled around in the pocket of my pajama pants for a moment and handed it over. “Knock yourself out.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, and wandered away. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

When the morning came I was the second one up. First was Luke, who woke me up with the gourmet aroma of 25 cent chicken ramen. After de-zombifying myself in the bathroom I grabbed myself a cup of flavored sodium. Luke clinked his plastic cup against mine. 

“Let’s see that ring,” he said while we ate. “I’m wondering what the best way to destroy it would be.”

I shoved my hand in my pocket, then remembered. “Claire put it in the safe last night,” I explained, walking towards the closet. 

On the bed, a half-awake Claire stirred. “No, I didn’t.”

I paused. “You definitely did.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I was out all night. Slept great. So I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”

I carefully balanced my ramen on the nightstand before pulling the closet door wide open.

There was no safe.

I stared at the plastic coat hangers and peeling wallpaper for a minute, processing a lot of things at once. I looked to groggy, confused Claire, then to the open, screenless window that was stirring its stained curtains with a soft morning breeze.

I closed the door and marched to my suitcase. “Guys? Get ready ASAP. Claire?” 

She sat up straight. “Yeah?”

“How much do you know about doppelgangers?”

“I mean...I've heard of them?”

“Then today’s your field lesson. We need to track down that ring.”

I tossed Claire a bundle of my clothes to borrow. She blinked at them.

“Welcome to the team.”


End file.
